Was letting go of you,
At just the moment chance had set
The door ajar, for walking through.
Each parted on his separate course,
I, to the vanquishment
Of unfed dreams, and other worse
Predicaments that heaven sent;
You—let me never speculate;
We both, in poortith driven,
Felt options dwindling, never great
The chance to take a bite of heaven.
So like a ghost I wander through
The darkened streets and alleys,
Hoping to catch a glimpse of you,
A ghost upon nocturnal sallies.
As you (it seems) have left the flesh
But I am left with mine,
That fruit must rot that once was fresh,
Its nectar’s savor so divine.
Imagination! Both a curse
And blessing in my time—
The need for you has gotten worse,
Excruciation grown sublime.
A glimmer of hope’s shimmering rays
Shines underneath the crack
Of that shut door, that all my days
Of weeping will not see swing back.